Sep 1, 2009

My wife sometimes thinks as far as a half day ahead when considering what to wear. We cross dressers typically require a little more planning. Perhaps require is the wrong word. I, for one, rather relish thinking about what will work for Petra. And in so far as dressing en femme for the outside world is not a frequent event, I typically do have time to ponder on about exactly what I want to shimmy and slide into next time. Here at least, is a nice, low carbon emitting pastime.

I review 8-10 emails a day from various retailers promoting this look, pimping that coupon and generally provoking my next click with the promise that I too, yes even I, can look as beautiful as the remote, perfect woman pictured within that simply-must-have garment. I follow avant gardiste bloggers gathering intelligence from the glittering trenches of the rag trade. The other day in a dentists lobby the choice between Sports Illustrated and Elle was a no-brainer. I’ll take the pretty over the sweaty any day.

Out in the real world too. I can barely stop writing memos to self. Fueling up the car, hunting for a bunch of bananas less bruised, holding an elevator door open, all around me are women who made fashion choices that register a place on my long and largely unfulfilled wish list. The variety is blinding and crazy-making. I envy them the complexity, the exponential explosion of ensembles that somehow, by some miracle emerge from so many drawers, shelves and closets, so effortlessly assembled and lived in so gorgeously.

My wardrobe is largely built around the dresses that flash a little leg, the skirts that gently and surely constrain the stride within taut fabric, the suits that insist on mindful modesty sliding out of the car seat, or taking a tall chair at a long bar. I do not suspect that will ever change. Truly. The breeze between my knees is the wind beneath my wings. With that said, I am struggling with an urge, a yet unexpressed desire to get into women’s pants.

Now, for the benefit of visitors from The U.K., by pants I mean slacks, not knickers. Well tailored trousers that merchandize curves, lengthen legs, narrow waists and draw eyes from butt to buffed nails. If pants were good enough for Katharine Hepburn, surely they are good enough for me? … I think. There is a curious set of feelings aroused by this next likely fashion statement. I feel like I am considering a little act of sedition within a bigger act of sedition.

For me, and for a few of you perhaps, cross dressing is, in part, an act of rebellion. Even as we embrace feelings and needs deeply wired within, we are thumbing our noses at convention. Hello world, yes, this is me, in a dress. Maybe “passing” from afar but far from passing up close. And now I am considering taking the dress out of cross dressing. I spend years warding off the urge to dress, agonized over accepting myself when I finally realized the fight was futile and wrong headed, and now I want back into pants? How very perverse.

Pants might just represent an interesting fashion frontier though. I suspect that they might have the impact of cloaking me just a little bit --- who is expecting a cross dresser to cover up their legs after all? Slacks have an odd ambiguity to them. On a woman, they are statement ... "I can run with the boys, and look like a girl". This statement is pretty muted these days and demurred by ubiquity. But not so long ago, a grown woman in pants was challenging the status quo and being just a little cheeky. Well, I live to challenge status quo's everywhere, and with the help of my ample padding can be just as cheeky as the next girl. Perfect pants are de rigueur for the modern woman, can fashionably rise to the requirements of practically any occasion and still possess all the liberation that their design naturally provides. And lord can they look good. I want some of that. I am man enough to admit it.

High-waisted, thin-belted, side-zipped, flare-legged, and long enough at the cuff to insist on a good heel. Paired with a smartly tailored, stretch cotton, French-cuffed, body-fitted blouse. A little bling, a big shawl and a bag to die for. I am looking forward to really legging it about this autumn in this imagined look. Ann Taylor and Macy’s are showing some terrific stuff. The endless racks of TJ Maxx are lined with options I have not taken the time to explore, besotted as I have been by the dresses.

I just feel like its time to mix it up a bit. How about you my dear? Do you have a perfect pair or do you remain faithful to garments with higher hems?

2 comments:

I think I know what you mean about sticking with dresses. For me at least, I wonder if I felt that trousers were too akin to bloke's clothing and for a while I shied away from them.

But... a good pair of skinnys, slacks, bootlegs or parallel legged trousers are, I think, as nice as a cute dress. The material, the weight and cut of women's trousers is very different from a guys. So for this CDer: a 'yes'. :)

It's not elegant by any stretch, but one of my current missions is a tight pair of women's jeans. I'm afraid Hillary has ruined pantsuits for me forever. I swear by the skirt, but with hair on the gams, slacks'll have to do. Pants do make me work harder to find interesting tops. Compensation, ya know.

About this part of me

Hello. I've been quiet about this for some time. How long? Since age 5. I remember distinctly an attractive friend of my mothers visiting. First pair of fishnets I clapped eyes on, and the world came into very, very sharp focus.

I wanted to have the beautiful woman in some inexpressible way, but I also wanted the things that made her womanly.

The Sears catalog would thud onto our front step. Fishing tackle and camping gear surely. But it was the 60 or so pages of confounding and compelling foundation garments that really got my attention on a rainy day.

Long line bras, open bottom girdles, and pant liners. Stockings, garter belts and pantyhose. Curves and crevices different from mine. And all of the revealing and concealing and vaguely hobbling dresses and shoes and hats that went on top of them all. Choice, complexity, mystery and forbidden fruit. A powerful brew that buzzes me still.

This desire has been with me forever now. It washes in and draws me out. I often swim against the tide. I sometimes let it pull. I don't believe that its going away though, and so its time for me to court it formally. And in giving it this space, perhaps understanding it better.

If you feel, in some way, these same things, I really hope this is helpful.

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Petra's fine print ...

Thanks for visiting. Petra keeps a file of findings, experiences, thoughts and hopes about all things crossdressing here.

This blog is open to and welcoming of the visits and interests of all crossdressers, the transgendered and transitioning, the curious and the spouse/partner, and by anybody who is just not judgmental.

Please feel free to leave comments, and feel confident visiting any of the sites listed here. Keep in mind, that my personal experiences may not match yours. If they differ, or if you want to introduce another vendor or service to me (and our new friends) well just drop a line.